


Destiny is All

by MissRaichyl



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Mild Smut, Minor Caroline Forbes/Tyler Lockwood, Minor Elena Gilbert/Damon Salvatore, Multiple POV's, No vampires, Slow Burn, alternative universe- the last kingdom setting, there is rough language and cussing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-09-02 00:12:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16775743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissRaichyl/pseuds/MissRaichyl
Summary: Klaus is a Dane Warrior, celebrated and hunted for his skill. He and his siblings take Caroline captive for her brother’s crimes, including the murder of their young brother, Henrik. Caroline enters a new world and try's so survive with the knowledge she brings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time trying a story like this, so let me know if it works!

“Don’t try to scream,” it’s a purr out of his mouth, the hand tight on her face. She couldn’t see him, hadn’t the chance to see him. It was a party. Why attack now? “We’re going to back up now,” his lips are near her ear, his other arm wrapped around her tight, keeping her from lashing out. Niklaus drags her body with his, her curls falling into his face as he turns his head, looking for his younger brother.

They make it to the edge of the palace and his lips are next to her ear again, his words hot, “I’m going to unhand you, but please do not run.” There’s a slow chuckle then, menace in it. “I’ll have to kill you then.” He sounds happy, like he would be glad to plunge a knife into her innocent back. She wants to surge forward when his hands leave her but yet she stays put. She doesn’t know why… probably the shock and the fear at her being taken at all. “Come, Lady.” She turns around and see his hand outstretched, her eyes traveling for the first time to his. She took it slow. He was in mostly black. His wrist cuffs were black with ornaments up the side of them, his sleeves were of leather, his shoulders coated in fur. She wondered what animal gave up their body for his warmth. He was lean, his build that of a quick warrior. He was scruffy, stubble adorning his chin. Finally her eyes met his. They were a crystal blue almost with flakes of green. She would say he was handsome if he wasn’t threatening her.

“Just grab the bitch and let’s be gone, Brother!” She hears from behind and startles her feet, moving backward before his hand shoots out, grabbing her roughly and pulling her forward through the hole in the wall.

“I rather not kill you, Love.” He tells her, shoving the one who had insulted her away from them. “Get on your horse, Kol.” He orders, hoisting her up into the saddle. It’s when he gets behind her that she finds her words.

“He’ll come for me,” they are shaky and she doesn’t quite know if they are true. “They’ll all come for me and kill you for this.” His chest rumbles behind her and it scares her even more than if he had just been rough with her again.

He lets go of the reigns, turning her head toward his with his free hand, his face inches away from hers in the dark of the night, the castle and party well behind them already. His eyes travel across her face. The dark green of her eyes lit up by something he couldn’t wait to explore. He found already that he was drawn to her and it scared him a bit to be honest. His eyes drifted toward her lips. They were rosy, looked soft. He wondered if she would give him the chance to see how they felt. Against his hand they were soft and wet from her cup of ale. He liked a woman who could hold her drinks, but she was part of their blood-feud. Anything between them was and would always be impossible. “That’s what we're counting on, Sweetheart.” His smile sends a shiver down his spine and he releases her, steering the horse back toward their destination.

* * *

“Where is she?” Edward roars across the room, Stefan barely flinching.

Damon was enjoying this way to much, speaking up in his brother’s place, “Are you planning on getting our men with an invisible bride, Lord King?” In his tone there was to much amusement and it was going to cost him his eye one day.

Stefan inserts himself, before he must explain Damon’s newest injury to Elena. “What my brother means is-

“I know what your brother means, Lord Stefan.” Edward growls, “go find my sister and bring her here!” He tells the guards behind him. To Stefan, he makes his excuses. “My sister wouldn’t run off, I promise. It’s not in her nature.” Stefan nods in understanding. She probably didn’t want this marriage anymore the he did. It was just part of their duty.

The door behind them opens, a worried guard looking around at the three men. “My Lords,” he nods, looking more nervous the more he stares.

“Well out with it, you integrate.” Edward snarls, not helping the situation.

Stefan asks, “did you find the Lady Caroline?” The man’s eyes shift again. “You will not be in any harm, you or your family. Tell us, where is the Lady?”

“She’s gone, Lord.” He holds out a slip of paper, “taken, my Lord.” Edward reaches over, only taking a glance at the paper before letting out a strangled yell.

* * *

Tyler traces his hand along Hayley’s back, not wanting to give up the warmth of her body just yet. She was so different from gentle Caroline. Her kisses were sweet and gentle where Hayley was hungry, fast. Her fingers worked so deftly that he wondered what skill gave her the ability. Her hair was course under his touch and when he would pull of it, she would growl, pulling him as deep into her as he could get. She was never satiated and it drove him wild, but he wished there was more talk between them.

When he was Caroline’s man, they spent most their time talking about anything and everything. He couldn’t lie with her, only the stolen kiss they shared haunted his memories. If only he could’ve bedded her, maybe then she would stop haunting him.

“You’re thinking of her,” Hayley’s voice, like grain filling him up pulls him to her, and her eyes are staring him down, “don’t think of her when we are together.” she says, her brown eyes full of warning as she lowers her head, her lips trailing down his stomach. He feels her fingers, slender and rough, curl around his cock. Her lips joining them. Her mouth was hot and her teeth dragged along him. He couldn’t help wrap his hand into her hair again, pushing himself against her.

“Lockwood!” There were bangs on the door but Hayley didn’t stop, her cheeks hollowing just as she pulled up, her saliva coating him, making it easier for her hands to follow. He was hard beneath her, but she wondered if it was her that made him excited or if it was the Lady Princess, the stuck-up snob who kept Tyler trapped to this town. She lowered her teeth, grazing his underside vein harder than before. His intake of air delighted her as his hands tighten in her hair.

The fist resounded on the door again, “Stop your fucking and get out here, Lockwood! The Lady Princess has gone missing!” The footsteps left with Tyler’s attention. The second the news made it into his brain, he pushes Hayley away, stuffing his cock into his pant, not even bother to wipe himself down. He throws on his shirt and armor clumsily.

“Forgive me for rushing,” he says out of breath.

“Your Lady calls,” Hayley wipes her lips, getting dressed herself. Maybe she could find a man in the ale house to see to her needs.

Tyler pauses at her words though, knowing that she would be insecure. He loved Caroline for a long time and their end was sudden and abrupt. He slides his arms around her, pulling her in him. “It’s not her, it’s my work.” He tells her, kissing her neck, showering her in his brief affection. “I must go.”

She knows he's lying to himself.

* * *

He finds her in the hall, standing by his door. He moves quickly, ushering her in. “Elena, we can’t.” He tells her but it doesn’t stop him from kissing her. It doesn’t stop her from pulling him in. “Not here.” He gasps but she shakes her head. It has been so hard for them both.

Suddenly she couldn’t be with Stefan. Suddenly she was having her hands tied with the cords, binding her to her Lover’s brother. What sin had she committed? Why were they being punished? “Once more,” she breathes against his lips, swollen with his kiss. His eyes meet hers and she falls for him again. Her sweet, gentle Stefan. So thoughtful and understanding but she knew there existed a side of him that was dark. It was what allowed him to be so fierce in battle.

“You said that last time,” he murmurs against her skin, his hand moving downwards, remembering their time before the party left for this place back in Mercia, almost a month ago, as he bunches her skirt up as her back hits the wall. It doesn’t take long before his pants sit along his ankles and Elena pulls her legs up, his hands sliding under them, helping her move herself into position, their lips connected in a long, heated kiss.

She bites his lower lip, dragging it out as he moves his cock into her folds. She moans out loud, her head falling as he worked his hips, bouncing her body on his. It took strength, a lot of it, but he wanted her. He hated that his brother had possession over his love, his light. He hated that he had to love her in secret. He used that hate now, every time he pulled back just to enter her again. Her hair was braided today, the length of it leading his eyes to her chest. He found hip lips moving, nipping at her uncovered skin.

“Harder, Stefan, please.” She begged him and he dropped them to the ground. The stone was hard under his knees and it would not be forgiving but he wanted to give her what she wanted. He wanted her gasping for breath under him, from him. He wanted all of her. When she clenched around him, swelling and the noise coming out of her throat, something feral and new, he made himself move at an alarming speed, wanting to share in her.

Elena gripped his shoulders, her nails biting through the fabric, her mouth against his, her tongue starting a war, licking his, wandering inside his mouth. She couldn’t get enough of him now that she couldn’t have him. She wondered if his father hadn’t given her away, if he would have married her when the Lord King died.

* * *

He pushes her forward, her feet stumbling as she enters the room. “It’s the nicest we got,” the annoying one says, looking at her as if she was a snack.

“I figured,” Caroline fires back, her eyes roaming around the place. There was a bed, a bucket with a towel, a pot in the corner. _Classy_. “Why am I here?” She turns, there were more than two that attacked her last night, but they were all men. The man she rode with stood closest to a different man. He was neater than the others, his clothes weren’t as dark either, more of a rusted brown.

“You’re here to pay for your brothers debt.” The annoying move moves forward but Caroline stands her ground. She wasn’t going to be intimidated by a child with crude lips. “And how you’ll pay that,” his eyes travel her and she feels exposed, wondering what fantasies he was spinning in his head, “we’ll figure that messy bit out.” He laughs and she flinches.

The neater man pulls him back by his collar, like a wee pup being scolded. “Stop it, Kol.” He orders. “Go to your wife before she comes looking.” The man who had taken me snickers and receives a look of death from Kol, the annoying. Caroline wonders still what they wanted with her and her brother's victories. All was fair in war, her brother told her after smacking her down in sparring, blood gushing down from her head. All was fair.

His eyes find her curious ones, the look in them stopping him mid-laugh. He knew she would be a tough one, by how she held herself but holding up to his brother was something else. No one outside of the family dared even to do that.

“You are here because your brother murdered our family,” Klaus speaks up, moving toward her as Kol slinks away. His brain malfunctioning under her gaze, so unwavering that it was dragging him in. “Welcome to Mikaelson Territory,” he grins, trying to un-nerve her, as the name strikes her, her mouth opening just the slightest, giving him the impurest of thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

"What is you plan, Brother? Have you thought this through?” Elijah asks from his seat at the table. Klaus sits next to him, picking apart the meat on his plate.

“What is there to think through?” Kol offers, finding his seat at the table, Davina following in behind him. “Bed her if you wish or leave her for the others.” His wife’s hand finds the back of his head, hard enough for all in the room to hear the smack. Many hide their laughter behind food and ale.

Elijah lets out a sigh, something he’s been doing a lot lately since he became the leader of their clan. “Kol, must you be so crude?” All he gets is a smile in return. He turns back to Klaus, wondering how far he planned this through. They all agreed to take her in retribution but maybe he relied to much on Niklaus to have planned further than that. He turns to his sister's husband, Marcel, “For now, cut a lock of her hair and send a messenger with it.”

Marcel nods tightly, going off without a word. He might be their brother now but he was still sworn to their sword. Niklaus gets up to follow him, getting questioning eyes. "And where are you going, Nik?" Katerina jests, leaning back in her seat, her eyes alight with trickery and sparring, always loving to have the last word and bait him. 

"To make sure it's done right." He gruffs out, before leaving them to their meal.

Elijah would have to watch him, he thought as he lifted the ale cup to his lips. His brother seemed fond of their prisoner already.

* * *

He nodded to the men guarding her door. They step aside easily and he walks in, surprised to find her lying on bed, nonplussed and content as if it was her bedroom in her fancy palace. “Lady,” he says and she flicks her eyes toward him.

“Are you here to kill me?” Her voice is a lazy as her eyes and it’s even more entrancing for him. How can she be so calm being held prisoner? If it was him, he'd be pacing the walls, yelling threats. 

He takes a few steps towards her, surprised when she doesn’t even flinch. “Why would I kill you?” She turns her head to look at him, her eyes trailing toward the long knife in his hand. She raises her eyebrows as she sits up, not even scared. His eyes trail her body with her fluid movements.

"I'm a prisoner of war, apparently and my brother cut your family down." Her voice is soothing and calling him forward. Her words hurt him as he see's Henrik dead but her voice... he wants to bathe in it. "Blood for blood." She tells him and he comes to rest in front of her, looking down into her eyes as she stares at him unafraid, ready for anything he could do to her.

His hand moves without his mind's order and he carefully strokes his thumb across her cheek and she lets him, her eyes unfeeling. He wonders if it’s her survival technique controlling her. How far would she go to save herself? “I am too smart to be seduced by the likes of you,” her voice is calm as silk drifting across his hands. He wants to kiss her, feel her against him in so many ways but he can’t.

He lifts the knife and yet she still does not flinch away, her eyes do not widen, and she doesn’t stray from his touch but he must stray from her. He takes his hand away and loops a curl around his finger. Her hair isn’t course but fine, so soft. He wonders what it will look like up, if she’ll look deadly and strong. “Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to you,” he quips and for the first time she looks startled by his words. He slices the blade through her hair and backs away, dropping the lock into a leather pouch. “Lady,” he nods toward her as he leaves, warning himself not to look back at her.

* * *

The leather bag lays in front of him, her blonde hair spilling out of it. “What is this?” He looks to his men, carefully seeing them. His eyes land on the priest, “What do I make of this, Matthew?” He comes toward him, his fingers lingering over the loose hair.

“I would say it’s a warning Lord King,” he says, taking back his hand and making the symbol of his worship. He lowers his voice, his back to the guards, “what happened on the battlefield?”

“You dare question me?” A whisper full of threat as his eyes flash to the skinny priest. “I did what was necessary for us to live in peace.”

Matt only shakes his head. How can this be peace with the Lady missing? “Maybe it would be wise, then, Lord King, to ask the Lady’s betrothed for men, to rescue her.” He advises and watches Edward’s fist clench and unclench. He was a proud man with anger issues. He knew that his demeanor did not reflect what was inside his heart. It was a sad day when his father died, leaving the country to his son.

Edward wasn’t a good king, nor a good man but he was a strong warrior and he would lead them into an era of peace with his sword dripping in Dane blood. “If I must,” Edward says, wondering how his sister was stupid enough to get caught. Did he not teach her to take down those who wished her harm? He had enough trouble keeping the heathens off their land and now she had to be captured like this? She was supposed to have slit their throats. His plan was a mess now because of his tart of a sister. 

“Bring me Lord Stefan and the imbecile that he calls his brother.” He waves his hand and some men disappear. The only clan that would retaliate like this right now would be the filthy Mikaelson’s. He thought he had cut their pride down, demolishing them with the heads of their family.

* * *

“Where were you last night?” Damon asks, brushing back his hair, lifting a cup to his lips as his wife picks from her plate, lifting a slice of apple to her lips, a small smile forming. He wants to throw the cup across the room. “Must I remind you that you are my wife?” He growls out, wondering if she sought out his brother or if he sought her out. Did it matter?

“I do not need reminding.” She replies in a clipped tone, “Nor do I need to remind you that I did not agree to this marriage.” She splits the apple slice with her teeth, a point toward her husband to not push the subject.

He laughs without humor. Did she have no class? “You are a married woman, Elena, do not embarrass me with more rumors.” He sits his cup down, looking into her eyes that hold no warmth. “Even if you don’t want this marriage, I do.” He stands as a knock echos on the door, a man from the Lord King summoning him. He rounds the table, settling his hand on her slender shoulder, wishing she could open up to him, turn to him. He places a kiss on her head, small and affectionate. “Don’t shame that again.”

He separates from her and she looks after him, hurting with guilt as well. She had come to like Damon after their marriage. There was nothing carnal about them but she knew he wanted her, his eyes told her that every time they settled into bed and she closed herself off. She told herself that with time, she would do her wifely duties and carry his child but she cannot trust him. She knows that he arranged this marriage for revenge toward Stefan, that every time they have to appear together in celebrations and rituals that he uses that to hurt his brother. She can't love a lie. Her hand brushes over her stomach, still barren though she regularly hopes that Stefan's child will become true and he'll call off this sham and they can live in peace.

She bites down on another apple as birds chirp in the air outside. How she misses her family this time of the year. Her sister's laughter as they chased each other around the yard, their mother tending to the animals with their dad picking them up and swinging them around as if they were sacks of feathers. Her eyes close as she recalls the time before the heathens burnt their house with her family. She had been trapped under a pillar, hearing their screams. Her mother shrilly calling for her and her sister, her father grunting as he tried to break down the door, and Katerina… her screams fading as she burned. She was so strong, always daring father to contest her with a kitchen knife, full of spirit and laughter. Mother always said that she was so lucky to get the same child with two spirits.

She remembers waking up covered in ash, her body pinned to the earth under her. Some knights fishing her out afterward and taking her to her Uncle's, where she lived a new life and met Stefan and Damon. And now she was to be wielded like a weapon against the love of her life. She reaches for her husband’s cup.

* * *

Laughter echoes around the tables, such spirit following them in the wake of epic tragedy. “Katerina!” She looks to see her husband walking into their place. The children of his late brother being the noise around their house. He smiles as he walks around them, ruffling their hair. “My brother’s secured the princess.” He tells her, his eyes resting on her swollen belly. He fights not to rest his hands on it, to feel the life that they created moving inside, ready to come out and play.

“I heard,” she replies, settling food around the table for the kids. “Davina says she’s a skilled fighter.” She looks toward him and he raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Well, she will be.” Her laugh tickles him, causing him happiness when they should be cast in sorrow.

Danes don’t mope, though. They fight and they celebrate, they hump and they fight some more. “Niklaus likes her too much,” he tells his wife, admiring her hair, twisted up with a pin, a tell that she was married.

He wraps his hands around her shoulders, hugging her close to him, her scent of herbs and spices making his heart stutter even more than before. Falling for her was wild to him. She was a slave girl, bought by his mother. She was of Saxon blood and yet she was meant to be a Dane. After Hayley had left so suddenly, stealing away in the night, he was left with the brokenness of what had been their place.

Even Kol refused to make fun of him in such a time. Then slowly he came back to life the more he saw Katerina. She danced around with the others in celebration, treated like a Dane instead of a slave. She wore the clothes and the make-up, it was her calling to be one of them. He watched her from that moment, the firelight caught her smile, lighting up his life. The way she practiced fighting with his brothers, the trust in them to give her a sword when it had been Danes that destroyed her first family.

“I love you.” He whispers into her hair, happy to feel her hands on his skin. She would never forget the look in his eyes when he first made advances, that worried look that she would rush away and never look back. His voice heavy with meaning when he first came to her, not knowing that she was watching him too.

“Maybe she will be good for him,” she turns in his arms, their baby making him stand back a step. “Maybe she is like me.” She whispers, angling her head up, her lips meeting his. He could taste the fruit she had eaten and he can’t help wanting to advance more but the children’s laughter stops him.

“She is our enemy, Katerina.” He tells her, bending his forehead toward hers. "She would never allow it."

She pulls back though, wanting his eyes to look at her, “You were mine once, rememeber.”

* * *

“Who are you?” She backs up toward the wall, wishing that she had something sharp to wield against them. They were intimidating without trying and the look they wore told her they weren’t here in nice intentions. “Do the brothers know you’re here?” She feels the wall hit her back as they come closer.

“Who do you think sent us, Girl?” One says, a gross smile fixed on his face as his eyes rake over her. “It’s not fair that they keep her to themselves, is it, Borden?” He asks his friend as they knock the table with the uneaten food over. She jumps at the sound it makes as they get closer, taking their time with the appraisal as her heart stutters in fear. She was raised a fighter but not with her hands, she didn't know how to knock them away without a weapon. 

"They wouldn’t send you," she says, trying to be intimidating herself. They wouldn't send these men to defile her, to destroy the only leverage against her brother that they had. “If you touch me, your people will lose the only leverage they could have against my brother.” She says, holding her hand out to warn them away.

They just share looks with each other, “humping you won’t destroy your worth, Lady.” the one called Borden replies his hand wrapping against her outstretched wrist.

“But my death afterward will.” Caroline says, fighting to keep her voice even as he pulls her forward, his breath reeking of ale and worse. And then it comes to her as she see the hilt. This was her chance. She runs her fingers along his belt, her fingers curling along the hilt.

“You won’t die from my sword,” he jokes, his euphemism not wasted on her.

She doesn’t hesitate on her reply, moving quickly. She pulls her hand back, the long knife plunging into the side of his neck, his blood spurting on her face and dress. He falls away from her, the knife escaping her grasp as his friend backhands her, sending her falling to bed. The wood frame catching her waist, making her cry out. “That’s more like it.” He sputters, grabbing her wrists, wrestling her onto her back. She can taste blood in her mouth and scream against this filthy heathen's hold.

He’s leaning over her with a smarmy smile and then his face goes blank and slack and blood coats her in excess. His body flattens along her and she cries in frustration, pushing at his dead body. As his body is removed, flung against a wall, Caroline wants to cry but knows that she cannot. Her eyes look everywhere, can't focus as she flings herself from the bed, nearly tripping over her own kill, trying to wipe their blood from her body and she sees him, staring down the rapist-would-be. His eyes were wild and his breathing labored as if he ran here. His nostrils flared in anger. “Did you kill Borden?” He points to the first man, the knife still deep in his neck.

Caroline still wipes the blood from her face, spiting it out of her mouth to the floor, “he tried to…” she can’t complete the sentence as he nods.

“Good job.” She looks at him in surprise but he’s moving already, calling in two men to carry away the dead men, as he rights her table, picking the plate up and looking at the wasted food on the floor. “You haven’t eaten.” He says, not a question. Is that really the problem here? She thinks to herself, her mind still panicking over the events that just occured.

He looks her over, his breathing leveling out and suddenly she's hit with the need to come into him, to wrap her arms around him and hold tight to him as if he'll save her. She blinks rapidly, turning away suddenly. It has to be the endorphins, the attack, it has to be, she reasons. She needs the sound explanation for her feelings and claws at it life it will save her from drowning. 

“What’s your name?” She asks, suddenly, not bothering to answer him. She looks at him carefully, not fully turning back to him. She wraps her arms around herself, scared of her own intentions. She looks at him, as he kneels to pick up the spoiled food, the careful spattering of blood decorating his neck, his eyes calmer as he sets the plate on the table.

He looks at her for a moment, the blood decorating her features heavily and he thinks for a second she looks like heaven. The way she fought was not that of someone in her standing. “Niklaus,” he says, watching that stubborn will of hers come forth again. It was a mistake to leave her undefended even if she was here as a prisoner. “Would you like to bathe, Lady?” he asks her and she nods, surprising him again. He expected her to balk at him, ask her if he intended to have a piece of her as well, but instead she trusted him. Him who took her in the dead of night. “Hold on for a second.” He says, leaving her to fetch his sisters. 


	3. Chapter 3

“She’s where?” Damon laughs out, wondering just how stupid his brother-in-law truly was. Edward glares at him, begging him to say something disrespectful so he can have his tongue.

Stefan is different, rushing forward like the dashing knight, “How many men do you need?”

Damon groans, displease at his brother’s quickness to help, “Brother, think-” Stefan wheels on him, his eyes alight with fire.

“I am your Lord King and I’m telling you to be quiet,” he hisses, letting Damon fall back, angry. He won’t be slighted by his brother nor anyone. “How many men?” He repeats to Edward, who is watching, wondering which one should he align with.

“All that you have,” He replies, pushing back his blonde hair, choosing Stefan as the wiser option, he is less reckless. “They won’t be easy to take down.” He turns all their attention down toward the rough map on the table, looking at the lands that belong to the heathen Dane’s.

“You took down Mikael with just your men and you want to take all of ours?” Damon speaks again, ignoring his brother’s hand and wishes.

Edward evades, cocking his eyebrow, “I was creative,” his eyes shifting under the lies of his success. Only Mikael, Freya, and Finn’s heads were brought to the door of the castle, the celebration of his victory and his sister’s engagement had been underway. They didn’t know of the bodies he used to bring Mikael down. They could never know that or how the information was attained.

“I will think on it,” Stefan says, “give me some time. I need council.” He shows his back to the two men, his feet taking him out of the room.

“Leave my wife alone,” Damon calls after him, hoping the threat went over Edward’s head. He didn’t need to be throne in a cell today. He smirks to the Lord King, “Ale, maybe?” He asks and Edward shakes with laughter, calling forward a servant girl.

* * *

“Tyler,” Hayley calls, walking through the dirt to her lover’s side. He hadn’t come home since Caroline had been taken and she can see the muscles in his chin flex as she rest her hand on his arm. “Tyler, this won’t bring her back.” She says, hating that still she is the sole occupant of his thoughts. “And even is she comes home, she’ll be married and cast to Mercia.” He jerks away from her and she wonders how Caroline had stood his moods, but maybe this was from the aftermath of the wreckage. 

When he turns toward her, his eyes look broken. “It’s been weeks, Hayley, and we still have no orders.” She comes toward him hoping to persuade him to her bedside, to _her_ side, but he continues, “She could be dead by now, her head hung on their savage post.” She sees the water in his eyes and hates that he cries for her.

She knows it’s the wrong time but she can’t help it. “You still love her, don’t you?” She pushes. “You’ve been with me for almost a year and still, she occupies your heart.” He looks at her torn. “What is it that you feel for me?” She asks him, wondering if her hand in all of this was only going to push him away instead of bring him closer. The way he stares down at her, the wrinkles on his forehead and she knows they don’t belong to her, that he’ll never worry for her like this. She doesn’t need to hear his answer and walks away from him.

* * *

Caroline starts to undo her lacing, her eyes traveling to Niklaus and his men, with a blonde girl who was loud and obnoxious and a raven haired, pregnant woman bordering her. “Turn away at least,” she calls out and Niklaus startles, turning to his men.

“Do as she says,” he tells them, warning them with his eyes. “She isn’t for humping and fantasies,” he says with a tone conveying allegiance and the turn with slight grumbles.

She smiles in success as her fingers pull the laces, her blood soaked dress falling to the ground. She wades into the water, the coldness dragging a chill through her bones. “Tell me your names, please,” She requests, turning around once she was submerged, the water dripping down her face as she washes her hair back.

“I’m Katerina,” the one with the baby inside says, her smile a little snarky and Caroline thinks they’ll get along.

She goes under again, this time to wash the blood from her face. “Have I met you, Katerina?” She asks, coming back for air, her voice breathy. Her looks remind Caroline of someone though, someone from home, though not someone close. A party of her fiance's court.

Katerina laughs but shakes her head.”I doubt our paths have crossed, unless you spend your time on battlefields like your brother.”

“You dare mention that swine in front of me?” The blonde reacts violently, her frame swinging from ignoring the girls to scolding them.

“Rebekah,” She warns from the bank but she continues on.

“After what he did to my- to your family?” She hisses, before looking at me. “We should drown the bitch and be done with it.” I stand up, suddenly on warning with the vhenamence in her words.

“My brother just wants peace in our lands,” I defend, “how dare you threaten me when it was your loss on the battlefield.” I move forward, the air attacking the water on my body, my skin prickling.

She snarls at me, pushing the clothing I would wear into Katerina’s hands. “Tell me, Caroline of Saxons, is killing a boy of seven years, who can’t even hold a sword straight loss on the battlefield?” She hiss at me, holding my eyes as I stop. “Is murdering a woman who carries no weapon a loss on the battlefield?”

“What are you speaking of?” Caroline replies, her tongue tight. “Did my brother do such things?” She asks, urging the blonde to speak, but she doesn’t, she doesn’t give her answers.

Rebekah flings herself at Caroline. Pushing them both into the water. Katerina squeaks, startled by the turn of events. Rebekah has the upper hand, but she underestimates Caroline, who doesn’t stay down for long. She holds Rebekah’s wrists tight, yelling at her with reason that will not reach her. “You must tell me what he did!” She orders, “Not fight the innocent party.” She throws Rebekah’s hands away from her, stumbling back. She would be bruised tomorrow.

The men had come forward now and Caroline was on full view. Her breast above the water line and she carefully covers herself with her hands. “You’re no innocent, Caroline.” Rebekah spits, “and I will have blood.” She moves her body out of the water, her skirts clinging to her legs. The men part with her passing, all eyes still glued to Caroline.

Caroline lets her head fall, dizzy and tired from the events. She hears movement and started as the water moves around her. She watches, picking her head up, as Niklaus wade through the water, where he clothes her with a soft, thin material. She doesn’t know what it is but she pulls it around her tightly, look at him from under her lashes. “What did my brother do?” She swallows and he sees the shaking in her form, knows that now is not the time.

“Katerina,” He motions with his hand, pulling her from the water, “help her dress then bring her to my rooms.” He leaves them and Caroline watches him go as Katerina takes her covering, quickly trying the Dane dress around her.

* * *

Her hands dance along his abdomen, a blanket draped across their bodies. “Will you send for troops?” Her sleepy voice asks, wondering if her love will rescue his fiancee. She can’t help but hate it a little.

“Do I have a choice?” He answers her question with another question. He sits up, letting her roll onto her back, “Damon will be looking for you,” he runs a hand down his face, aching to stay with her for longer but knowing he can’t. He must go to Edward with his answer and his promise of men. “We’ve waited so long already,” he pauses, turning to look at her, still splayed out on his bed, calling to him like a siren. If he didn’t keep his promise, he would be letting his country down, his dead parents, and Damon would probably make a play for his crown.

“What does that mean? Is she dead?” She sits up, scooting close to him, draping her arms around him and he closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to talk of his future wife anymore. The need of Elena was overwhelming. He pushes her back and she falls with an ‘oof’ while his lips attack her neck, her giggles breathing life into him. “Stefan,” she gasps as his kisses trail to her breast, her nipple between his teeth. She lets go against his lips, moving her legs to either side of his body, bringing his lips to her mouth.

Damon would forgive her for this, he must. He knows they could never have this. “Be mine,” he whispers against her lips, her body heating with need. She can feel him just outside of her, his tip resting against her entrance. She tries to shift but he won’t let her. His hand moves down and stays her hips, and she becomes even more turned on. “Say you’re mine,” he says again, pulling up to look at her, his hazel eyes hot on hers as he runs his hand through her hair.

“I’ll always be yours,” she responds, hooking her hand around his neck and forcing him to come back to her, “now have me.” She growls, aching with desire for this man, this king who would always be hers no matter if he married some blonde princess with a thousand men, he would always come back to her.

He doesn’t wait this time, slamming into her, hearing her cry out in pleasure, her shuddering around him. It makes him go harder and her nails rake down his back.

* * *

Caroline walks into the unfamiliar space, her eyes dancing around the hall. The Dane hall was different from the place where she grew up. It’s full of shields and swords, opposed to the crosses that hung on her brother’s walls. She sees him coming down from the second story, his body lean, not covered in his usual armor. It seemed strange to her that he wasn’t in it. She had gotten used to thinking of him as a fierce warrior and here he was, in clothes as simple as a common worker. He seemed human to her now. It scared her and enticed her.

“You’re here for your protection.” He speaks, landing with a soft thud on the floor. The look in his eyes make him want to tease her and he can’t help it. “I won’t touch you.” He shows his hands to her and soft smile playing on his lips and she can’t help grin in return, almost laughing at the remark.

“You’ll protect me from who?” She asks, as he circles the table, so much more passing between them then the simple conversation and she knew it. She knew he was attracted to her though she wondered why. She wasn’t much if her brother’s words were anything to go off of.

He reaches her side of the table, holding her eyes steadily. His fingers trail across the tables edge, his mind imagining it were her skin. His head tilts as he considers her words, of what would be the correct response. His tongue wants to say from anyone who dares try to take you from me, but his minds wants him to say from those who try to hurt you.

He doesn’t understand how she has a hold of him so strongly already. How the look in her eyes could make him praise her for killing his men or how the movement of her shoulders, the tension or the falling could impact his mood. “From anyone who dares to harm you.” He chooses, watching her eyes, the light in them telling him she finds that interesting.

He stands a breath away now and she wonders if he is as entranced with her as she is with him. “Will you tell me why I’m here?” She doesn’t know if that is a question she’s allowed to ask, if he’ll tell her. “My brother… he came home with the heads of your father and two siblings,” she drops her eyes, switching to look around the room, moving away in case this was a bad move, if he’d attack her like his sister did. “But he did more than that didn’t he?” She chances a look his way, his hands clenched so hard she fears he’d draw blood.

She wonders what is going on in his head and she wants to make it better. Something inside pulls at her but he speaks and her heart breaks. “He killed an innocent child.” He pins her with his gaze as her hand covers her mouth, her eyes instantly watering with the shock of it. “He killed my brother, barely seven. He couldn’t even hold a sword.” His voice wavers and he switches from clawing his hands to holding the back of a chair and Caroline ingests this information of her brother. Is it sad that she believes it right away, knows that he is capable of such cruelty? His voice brings her back and the weight of her brothers crimes hits her. “He cut his head from his shoulders and held it proudly on the battlefield.” His eyes, holding the weight of an ocean, begin to drip down his face while Caroline’s pool over, wetting her face, her wet hair tangles around her face. “And when my father dropped his sword, surrendering, he rode forward and cut him down as well.”

“I didn’t…” She starts buts stops. There was nothing in the world that could save her and her brother was damned. Her legs collapse under the weight, the stones scratching against her legs. Her brother would not live and they would use her as a breaking point. No matter the relations she made, her throat would be cut in front of him, as he watched.

“We don’t even know how he got inside, why he chose Henrik when Rebekah and Sage, the other children…” He trails off but she understands. Why Henrik when there were others to choose from. “You’re here because your brother owes us a blood debt, Lady Caroline, and you are the insurance that he pays it.”

His words flow into her ears but she can’t tell him the truth, that her capture won’t do anything. They’ll kill her to make her a martyr if they knew that for her brother, Caroline was no more than a trading piece for army and lands. “I see,” she says, her eyes glazed and sad. Either way she’ll die in the end. Her eyes see Niklaus once more, trying to put away the strange feelings and attraction she had for him. He would be the one, she knew it. He would cut her down.


	4. Chapter 4

Rebekah sat at Sage’s table, still simmering at the gall her brother has toward the Saxon whore. “How can her let her roam like a house cat?” Her words are clipped but her meaning was clear. Her fingers twirl her dagger expertly in her hands.

“I would’ve killed her and sent her head as a warning.” Sage concurs, hatred for that bloodline boiling in her being. She cuts strips of meat from a piece of pork Elijah had brought over. A peace offering with their decision to give Caroline more freedom since the attack. “They don’t know, do they?” Sages asks her sister-in-law, looking her way.

Rebekah scoffs, “one is to busy with his woman about to burst and the other has his hand up the enemy’s skirts,” Rebekah hates how the men in her family are so weak against women. They must’ve been cursed somewhere in their line. “And dead men tell no tales.” Even Rebekah’s tone gives Sage shivers. The blonde stands gracefully, stretching out her arms, popping joints. “Next time, she won’t be lucky, Sister,” Sage watches as her eyes narrow, a new plan forming to bring the Saxon’s blood to run and a giddiness fills her heart.

Sage watches as she comes closer, her tied hair intricate with braids and pieces of leather. “It will be more difficult, Bekah,” she warns her young sister. “But do bring me our revenge.” Rebekah can still see the grief in her face.

“I will avenge them all,” She promises, grabbing for Sage’s arm. “No matter the difficulty, I won’t fail again.”

* * *

“Brother,” his words slur as Stefan comes to the table, hands clasped behind his back. “Oh,” Damon huffs, “my brother is unhappy tonight!” Stefan tries to not roll his eyes at Damon’s antics.

“Another night searching for the end of a barrel, Damon?” His reputation was preceding him and if he was unlucky, he would see himself killed for it. Damon laughs waving his hand toward a girl, brunette and slim. He pulls her into his lap, her giggles cascading around the place, drawing more than one set of eyes. “Be done here, Brother, and return to your wife.” He cast his tone lone, only allowing Damon to hear him.

“Are you returning her to me now, Stefan?” Damon banters back, but the look in his eyes is anything but friendly.

“You say that as if I’m the one who stole her.” The challenge cast left no room for humor. Damon pushes away the girl, who squeaks, startled, standing up to tower over Stefan, but the young king doesn’t get scared or turn away. “If there was no alliance, she and I would have wed and I would’ve been crowned all the same.” Stefan’s voice is low, so no one can hear and question his loyalty to the missing Caroline but Damon glares, hating his brother’s insinuations.

“And when Caroline returns and hears you’ve been fucking your brother’s wife? You think she’s naive with a brother like that, Stefan?” Stefan has no reply to that. He knows his brother is right, that the stories he has heard of Caroline were different than what he imagined. She was no damsel in distress. She was smart, often outsmarting her brother in tactical projects. She had no equal in this realm.

“She’ll understand.” He mutters, grabbing his brother’s cup and downing the remains. He locks eyes with Damon, heated eyes in anger and tilts the empty cup back toward the owner. “You’re done here, return with me.” He orders, not leaving any room for discussion. The cuo hits the table with a clank, tottering and almost falling over as Stefan turns and walks away.

Damon slinks along, his love for his brother fading with every passing moon. He wonders if Elena will be waiting for him tonight or if she’ll leave after he’s passed out for his brother's arms. “I don’t want to hate you, Stefan,” he admits for once in his life, breathing deeply and blaming the alcohol for his sudden confession. “but I feel that this path we are taking will lead to our destruction.”

He wonders if Stefan agrees with him or if he doesn’t. They walk in silence until they reach Damon’s door. He hears movement inside. “Don’t be late tomorrow. We’re ordering the troops to move.” Stefan says absently. So long has already passed, he’d be surprised in the princess was untouched or even alive.

“Already? Have our men come? Alaric hasn’t contacted me.” Damon asks, wondering what all he has missed in his drunken absence. He lived for the glory of battle, yearned for his name in history more than anything. Stefan knew that. Damon looks at his brother again, his dark eyes showing calculations more than affection, but he knew it was Stefan’s way of affection toward his immature brother.

“They are due in three days,” Stefan responds, holding out a letter, most likely from Alaric or Lexi, a she-witch who clawed her way up the chain, defying their roles in society, championing and coming out on top at every turn. Damon hates that he was beaten by her. He had to stay in bed for more than a week. “Sleep now,” Stefan nods his head and turns away, heading for his room.

“Stefan,” Damon calls out, his legs still a bit unstable and Stefan turns, waiting. “Thank you, Little Brother.” Stefan nods in return, turning back down the hall toward his rooms.

* * *

Tyler jumps at the news, a smile adorning his face. “You’re positive, Uncle?” He asks, his hand tight around the hilt of his sword. The Lord King has ordered three companies of men to move out, to surround the Mikaelson Keep and watch. The orders were being passed along through the lines now.

“You’ll be with the Mercian men, Tyler. Keep your head on straight. Don’t fight them,” he warns. Tyler knew he had a temper, sometimes he would get so angry Caroline would look at him wide with fright, remembering her brother’s temper. She hated it and he tried his best to reign it down, keeping it inside. “We aren’t Danes who build squares and hack off each others heads.” He lectures, trying to keep Tyler’s attention.

“When,” Tyler asks, the only question on the top of his mind. He wanted to leave right now if he could, rescue Caroline from the vile heathens who were probably trying to defile her in all manners and he wanted to crush them, each and every one. Caroline was innocent, she wouldn’t even let him have her. How dare they even lay eyes upon her and take her from her home. How scared she must be.

“Every man is to report before sundown tomorrow.” Tyler would report as soon as the sun rose then. He wouldn’t wait another second.

* * *

“How long has it been?” She asks, curled up in one of Niklaus’s chairs, her head lolling on the back like it was too heavy to pick up. In all honesty, she was bored. No man dared to attack her or even look at her. All women besides Katerina avoided her like the plague, as if her blood was enough to poison their veins.

The siblings were the only ones who entertained her, except for Rebekah and Elijah. Though they had put their fallen family to rest, besides their father, which none felt sorry for, according to Katerina, Rebekah held the most animosity towards her brother. Caroline understood why, she felt the same the closer she got with the family, the more she felt as if she belonged here. It scared her beyond all hope. Especially the part where she was aware she was falling for Niklaus more everyday.

Katerina looks up from the fruit she was slicing apart, a grim smile on her graceful face. “A little over two months, I think.” She brings over the tray, her stomach so huge many thought that more than one had to be inside her. “Caroline, please know I mean no harm, but your brother…” she trails off and Caroline knows what she is asking, wants to zip up tight so nothing could slip that would end in her death, but she feels safe with Katerina, so she tells her. She ignores her survival skills and hopes that her trust will be enough.

“He will come,” Katerina nods, “but not for me.” Caroline tries to hold back the sudden tears that threaten to fall and stands, walking away from her friend.

Katerina’s eyes trail the blonde princess, wide. “What do you mean? Is he not your brother? Does he not realize that you could be in danger every second?” She beartes the missing King but Caroline takes no head to her words.

“He’ll send me away once he has me, marry me off to the Lord King of Mercia for army and lands,” She wraps her arms around herself and turns to look over her shoulder at Katerina, the wild woman of the Dane’s. As brave as any man and rumored to have cut off the testical of a man who tried to have his way with her.

“That’s not how it should be,” the dark beauty whispers to herself, her heart suddenly wrenching, not knowing what their captive had actually been through, the secrets she had kept locked inside in fear. She watches her, her shoulders tense, the slight shake of emotion and rage. God forbid the world give this woman a sword, she thinks, as no one might be left in the end.

“You see, Kat,” her small voice echos around them, bouncing off the armor and the knives, ghosting into Katerina’s heart and hurting her. Caroline glance back at her and she crying. Tears pool in her eyes and she speaks again. “I’m not wanted anywhere I go.” Her tears fall but she doesn’t move to wipe them away. “I was a prisoner in my own home, the one man I think I loved was barred from me, then I was sold to a new Lord King whose heart is not mine to claim.” Katerina moves then.

Caroline feels her friend’s hand on her shoulder and turns into her embrace. “Once they find out that I’m not a bargaining chip, I think I’ll be killed either way.” She cries and Katerina grips the her harder.

“I won’t let that happen.” She whispers, fight already building, “My husband won’t lay a blade to you and neither will Nik.” She pulls away, her deep brown eyes searching Caroline’s, her face inside the brunettes hands, willing her to trust her. “If here is where you feel at home, a home is what I will make for you.” The ferocity in her eyes make Caroline’s tear stop, because it’s true. 

“How?” Katerina leads her back to the seats, where the mangled fruit sits, a trying effort. Once seated she asks if Caroline would like to hear a story.


	5. Notice

Hello Readers!

Since I began this story, I graduated college and got my first full time job, where I moved away from home (to another country) and have had to restart, in a way. So, while my updates have been non-existent (for that I’m sorry), please understand!

I’m not abandoning this story as I have have already written the final chapters, but I also have decided to re-write it from the beginning. I think my characters, though based on TVD/TO characters lack something and are too to 2-D, so I want to flesh them out before I continue. I think my story is focused to much on the plot and there isn't enough character development happening to progress the story how I want it to, so I need to tinker around with it and listen to the characters more.

Please wait for me to get settled and re-write the chapters and hopefully I can do a huge upload all at once when the time comes.

Thank you for sticking around and I hope to be posting soon!

**UPDATE! (08-20-2019)**

  
Hello all! 

Thank you for the happy comments! It's nice to know that so many of you are waiting for the story and that so many of you enjoyed it. I've come a long way since I began writing fan fiction but sometimes I feel like I'm still 13, sitting in my room. I hope to continue to grow as a writer and make many more stories!

And this one is only beginning! I'm happy to say that I have completed editing for the existing chapters and am currently writing the remaining chapters so hopefully it won't be much longer before they are up. I'm hoping to finish the story by the end of the year, so it's not like they'll be up next week, but before 2019 ends!

Thank you for waiting and I hope to be returning soon!


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